Ride
by singsongsung
Summary: Serena/Carter; the aftermath of 3x18. "It scares her, the way they are irreversible."
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This was written before 3x18 aired, based solely on spoilers and my ideas/wishes for what might transpire when I heard Carter would return for an episode. Needless to say, the show really let me down in that regard – I expected much more, and much better. Originally, this was intended to be a oneshot, but I now feel compelled to _fix_ that mess (catharsis ftw), so it will probably be a three- to six-part story so that the actual events of 3x18 can be incorporated. I really love this ship, and it's awful that they've been left off like they were.

Lyrics courtesy of the Carey Brothers (this is and always has been my ultimate Ca/S song). Enjoy; reviews are lovely.

**Ride**

--

_you are everything i wanted_

_the scars of all i'll ever know _

--

Here are the things she does not tell Nate:

i.

She ignores it, when she first sees Carter (she's downtown and he's just _there_, standing only a few feet away, all of a sudden and for a moment she thinks she made him up), when he rests a hand at the small of her back and presses a chaste, unassuming kiss to her cheek. She pretends it does not happen.

But she can't ignore it when he looks right at her and says huskily, "Hello, beautiful."

It's impossible not to acknowledge it: the unmistakable, tentative flutter of her heart.

ii.

"I missed you," she tells him abruptly at one point, to fill the silence. Tears prick at her eyes mercilessly; her throat's all tight. "You shouldn't have left like that."

_I could never hate you, never pity you – don't you know that?_

And maybe he does, because his eyes pierce hers and his thumb skins over the apple of her cheek and he says, "I shouldn't have left at all."

iii.

This is an old story.

She told Carter about her father, trusted him with treasured information that could break her as easily as it could fix her, long before she let anyone else in.

Still: "You didn't have to do this," she tells him, sitting on one of the wingback chairs in his hotel room, her fingers tracing over the ink on the documents, her family's mess of a history made simple, laid out in black and white as if it could really be that easy. She spends an extra moment staring at a picture of her father, remembering the way she always barreled down the hallway and latched onto his legs when he came back home.

She looks up at Carter; he's watching her, waiting patiently.

Serena stands up. "You don't owe me this." The thought stings, makes her defensive. "We're about more than just this."

He nods calmly. "I know. And now you know…" He gestures to the arc of documents, "Everything."

iv.

He knows about Nate.

She can tell by the way he is careful around her, the way he does not let himself linger. She can tell that he wants to respect her relationship – but that it's a surface kind of want, something born of propriety; beneath it, he missed her too, she knows it.

She appreciates him for it, that respectfulness – false as it might be – but wanting and doing are two different things.

They're too accustomed to falling back into each other.

v.

She can see the way she's broken his heart.

It's right there, in his mannerisms and his eyes and the sound of his voice.

A part of her longs to put the pieces back together, to use her kisses as super-glue.

vi.

They don't have sex.

(She is not _that girl_ anymore.)

But she does end up in his bed, half of her clothing shed and her hands clutching at the Egyptian cotton sheets and at his shoulders as he slips his fingers inside her, takes her higher, higher – and when she comes she gasps out his name on a breath that keeps catching in her throat.

vii.

Afterwards, she cries, mascara smudged against the hotel's pristine pillowcase and Carter's arms around her, his face tucked against her neck while she breathes in his cologne and sniffles into his shirt, takes great big breaths and pretends that she's okay, that this is okay.

viii.

He's too big a part of this, of her whole life, always here or there, always catching up with her or there for her to find.

It scares her, the way they are irreversible.

ix.

Just for a moment, while she smoothes the damp corner of a towel over her face in the bathroom, she wants to ask him to whisk her away from here.

(She knows he would.)

x.

He kisses her when she's about to leave, pushes her back against the door, traps her body with his own, eases her mouth open with his.

The way he kisses her, deeply and desperately, it's like he's trying to tell her something he doesn't have the words for.

She thinks she hears it anyway.

xi.

In the town car outside the Waldorf's (now Serena's, kind of) home, she waits a moment before she opens the door.

There is a thick, ugly file tucked into her bag, but that's not what's important.

"Will I see you again?"

Carter smirks, pushes her hair tenderly out of her face. "Don't you always, baby?"

Serena kisses him, this time, the key of a hotel room she never had any right to enter still clutched in her hand, plastic edges rough against her palm.

xii.

"Thank you," she says formally, standing with him on the city sidewalk, their fingers threaded together.

"Anytime, beautiful."

He kisses her knuckles and then he lets her go, returns her to her home and her real life and the man she loves.

She feels undeniably like her mother's daughter.

xiii.

In the elevator, she rests her head against the wall and closes her eyes, finds a smile and a _hey, you_ for her boyfriend.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thank you so much for your feedback! Just a quick reminder that this story follows certain aspects of canon, but I will also be veering off from the storylines in some places. The beginning of this chapter takes place in the same time-frame as the last chapter, simply because of the style in which I'm writing this.

--

_if i told you you were right_

_would you take my hand tonight?_

--

Here are the things Carter tells her:

i.

"Hello, beautiful," and it shrinks time and continents until it's just the two of them standing on a city sidewalk, the world rushing on around them.

ii.

"I'm glad you came."

She doesn't quite manage to smile back, but she knows that he's telling the truth.

iii.

He's staying at the St. Regis hotel. Room 514.

He gives her a key.

iv.

"It's for real," he says simply, tangles his fingers in her hair.

His voice is low and she can feel his breath, warm against her neck. She sighs against the sheets.

"I'm not going to let you down this time."

It feels like a promise.

v.

He breaks the silence over coffee, tucks a knuckle under her chin and requests, "Let me see you smile."

And when she quirks her lips it is an obligatory gesture, but it turns into something real, something genuine, because he's back – he always comes back.

vi.

"There's a reason I always come back to you, baby."

Time stretches out around her, forward and backward and _now_.

This is what proof must look like.

(This might be how forever feels.)

vii.

He texts her during Dorota and Vanya's pre-wedding gathering.

_meet me. _

She ignores him. She has a boyfriend.

_i found him_.

She swallows, reminds herself to keep smiling. She's not supposed to –

_want me to book you a ticket?_

Blowing out her breath, her eyes find Nate in the crowd and something in her cracks.

_want me to come with you?_

Serena turns, slips quietly from the room. With Carter, she's never done what she's supposed to do.

She texts him back, an answer to all of the above, three simple letters typed on the miniscule keyboard of her phone.

viii.

"He has his exact location, just a three hour plane ride away. You ready for this?"

She hesitates.

"I don't know how long he'll stay there." Carter's eyes probe hers; she can tell how badly he wants her to stop over-thinking this. "It's now or never."

He touches her arm, and she shifts against him a bit. She doesn't pull away, but she doesn't move forward, either.

"What are you doing?" His voice is soft, coaxing. "Everything's booked. This is your chance."

She gives in.

ix.

"Thatta girl," Carter praises her warmly, his grin breaking free as his hand settles at the small of her back.

"Wait, I should tell someone I'm leaving – " Nate needs to know that she's going.

"There's no time. Call from the car."

She looks at him, her grip tightening on the piece of paper he handed her a moment ago.

Finally, she nods. She follows him out.

x.

In the car, he rests a hand on her knee. "It's okay."

She sniffs, flipping her phone shut. "There's no answer."

"Don't think about that now. Three short hours until you see your dad. Think about what you'll say to Daddy van der Woodsen."

Serena dials again, takes deep breath while the phone rings and rings and rings. "Nate, it's me," she sighs when she gets his answering machine yet again. "Call me back. _Please_."

Carter frowns, lifting his hand to tuck her hair out of her face. "Don't worry about him right now, Serena."

"I _have_ to worry about him. He's my boyfriend. I love him."

"_Archibald?_" Carter scoffs disbelievingly. He shakes his head. "You don't love him."

Her temper flares, she snaps, "Don't tell me how I feel!"

xi.

He tells her he doesn't want her to settle. He can't believe that she would.

"You can do better than him."

"Better?" she demands. "Better like _you_?" Her heart leaps up into her throat and it's an effort to swallow. "You _left_ me. I did everything I could to get you back and you _left_."

She takes a deep breath and looks out the window.

xii.

They are almost at the airport when she finally says, wearily, "What're you trying to do, Carter? Sabotage my relationship? I know what you said to Nate when you two ran into each other earlier." She looks over at him. "Is that the real reason you're back? To get closer?"

"No." She doesn't buy it and he must be able to tell, because he repeats, "_No_, Serena. I'm here for you in…whatever way."

"I want to believe you," she whispers, staring down at her lap.

He rests his hand over hers for a moment, and when she doesn't pull away he threads their fingers together and gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. "So believe me."

xiii.

In the end, he has to make the confession for the both of them: "It's obvious that there's still something between us."

She closes her eyes but she doesn't let go of his hand. "Let's just get on the plane."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Thank you for your feedback!

_if i told you reasons why_

_would you leave your life and ride?_

_and ride...  
_

Here are the things that happen:

i.

Palm Beach is warm and sunny and idyllic.

Serena really wants to believe in that image.

ii.

They get a cab to the hotel and she basks in the feel of the air conditioning's cool blasts of air, internally lectures her pounding heart: _stop that_. She tries to prepare herself for the inevitable disappointment.

(It doesn't work. It never has.)

iii.

She stops moving in the hotel's lobby.

"I can't," she says. She feels like a fool but she just can't. This could tear her apart all over again and she doesn't have the strength to put herself back together.

iv.

Carter glances around and grabs her hands. "C'mere," he says, and pulls her into the men's bathroom.

"What're you – what if – " There's no one there, so she flicks the lock on the door with her elbow. "What are you _doing_?"

"What're _you_ doing?" he demands. "It's been years, Serena. And now you're here. You're right here where he is. Don't you dare run away from him."

She tries to pull her hands from his but he holds fast. "I don't know why I bother."

"Yeah, you do, baby."

She meets his eyes hesitantly. Wearily, she says, "It's just going to be like every other time."

"Don't let it be," Carter says insistently. "Who the hell is he to make you feel like you're not worth it?"

v.

She stops breathing for a second, right there in the men's bathroom of a hotel in Palm Beach. She sees his face, that day in the woods, remembers, _I would have stayed, all summer, with you._

She kisses him, right there, fists balled against his chest and eyes squeezed shut.

vi.

"You want me to come with you?" Carter asks, arms wrapped around her and his forehead pressed lightly to hers.

She curls into his chest, rests her head against his shoulder.

"Serena?"

Exhaling, she shakes her head a little.

_Let's just stay like this for a minute_.

vii.

She presses the button to call the elevator.

"You'll be right here?" She tries to sound unaffected, tossing her hair over her shoulder and looking everywhere other than his face.

But she can hear his smirk anyway when he says, "I'm not going anywhere, beautiful."

viii.

The lighting in the halls is soft, half-illuminating and half-shadowing her father's hotel room door.

She lifts her hand twice before she finally manages to knock.

And then the door swings open and standing there is the parent she didn't expect to see.

ix.

"Serena!" Lily exclaims, a hand to her chest, the picture of shock.

"Mom?" She echoes the surprise with a disbelieving shake of her head. Her mother is _here_, in _Palm Beach_, in her _pyjamas_. "What are you doing here?"

Lily presses her lips together. "I could ask you the same question."

Subconsciously, she mimics her mother's facial expression. "Are you serious?"

"Serena – "

"Serena." Her father's voice cuts in, calm and causal, as if this is an everyday occurrence, as if he hasn't been out of her life for the past fourteen years.

She sees his face and her vision blurs.

"Daddy," she says, and she's all of four years old again.

x.

Her mother reaches out to her but Serena backs away.

"You're here together?" she asks breathlessly. Her voice cracks over the last word.

_Is it just me? Am I the only one you ignore?_

"Darling," Lily says, her voice muted, "this isn't what you think it is."

Serena shakes her head and turns away. "I guess it never is."

xi.

She calls Nate in the elevator and gets his answering service.

So she hangs up. She doesn't really know what to say after the beep, doesn't really have the words to explain the mess she's caught up in and all the deeply-buried emotions it keeps stirring up in her, not to some automated recording.

But she really needs someone to talk to.

xii.

Carter stands up the second she stumbles out of the elevator and into the lobby.

"What is it? What happened?"

And when she doesn't answer he wraps an arm around her waist, tugs her close to him. "Tell me."

She blinks and then laughs; it's strangled but it's there because he just looks so ready to kick some ass, which is ridiculous.

"Tell me, beautiful," he says with the ghost of a smile. "Is he here?"

She nods. "And so's my mom."

xiii.

"You can't run away from this."

"Sure I can," she answers petulantly.

They're sitting across from each other in matching leather chairs; Carter leans forward in his. "You can't, Serena."

She arches her eyebrows. "Watch me."

He ignores her childishness. "This is your chance to get answers."

"I don't know if I want them anymore. It's just…so much time, so many secrets and lies."

"Figure them out. It's time."

She smiles sadly at him. "Sorry for making you be my shrink."

"Anytime. Lie down on a couch and describe all your dreams about me."

She rolls her eyes. (And maybe she blushes a little.)

"You know you have to go back up there."

Huffily, she says, "It's not like they're racing down here to find me. I could be long gone by now." She swallows hard. "And they don't even care."

xiv.

"So you go back up there." Carter touches her knee. "And you _make_ them fucking care."

xv.

"Will you come with me?"

He smirks at her. "If you'll have me."

She looks at her knee, at the place he's touching her.

"I'll always have you," she says.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Thank you for reviewing.

_you saw all my pieces broken_

_this darkness that i could never show_

Here are the things she finds out:

i.

Her mother is sick. She has cancer.

Serena's hands start to shake. She's vaguely aware of Carter touching her back.

"How bad?" she asks.

Lily stands up from where she's sitting next to William and sits on Serena's other side instead. She places her hands over her daughter's.

"Everything is going to be fine," she promises.

ii.

It's been almost a year.

"And you didn't _tell_ me?" Serena demands. She wants to yell. "How could you not tell me?"

"I didn't want to worry you, sweetheart. I didn't want you to treat me any differently."

"That's no excuse, Mom! What would happen if – " She stops short, swallows hard.

Lily touches her hair. "There aren't any what-ifs. I'm fine. Everything's fine."

Serena blinks. She can't even remember the last time she was in a room with both of her parents. And now her mother has dropped this bombshell.

Nothing is fine.

iii.

"Your father has been excellent," Lily says warmly.

Serena stays quiet. Next to her, Carter does the same. She wonders if he wants to leave.

"Your mother's illness is very treatable," William contributes.

She fixes her eyes on the window. She wants to cry. Fourteen years, and _that_ is the first sentence her father says to her.

Lily is saying something about being almost cured, but Serena has lost the ability to listen.

iv.

"I wanted to talk to you," William says earnestly in the voice that used to read Serena fairytales at bedtime. "To see you. I wrote to you, but with your mother's illness…I couldn't do much more."

She stares at him, tries to figure out if that's a good enough reason.

(Her heart screams _yesyesyes_ but her head is much more skeptical.)

"Fair enough." Carter's voice, smooth and diplomatic, startles her. She'd almost forgotten he was there. "But what about the other thirteen years of her life?"

Serena looks at him with extremely grateful eyes.

Her father looks mildly startled. He clears his throat and levels her with his gaze – and she sees it, then, the parts of her that have come from him.

"That," he says, "I don't have much of an excuse for."

v.

"Carter." Lily stands, cinches her robe tighter at the waist. "I'd love a cup of herbal tea. Would you mind keeping me company?"

"I'd love to." Her reaches for Serena's hand and she almost smiles as she squeezes his fingers.

_It's okay, you can go._

The two of them go into the suite's tiny kitchen and Serena is left sitting across from her father.

Her heart hurts.

It's been nearly a decade and a half now. William van der Woodsen is as good as a stranger. All they share is DNA.

vi.

"I don't want you to think that I didn't love you," William finally tells her, breaking the awkward silence. "Or that I don't. That isn't true."

Her eyes flood; she blinks rapidly but a couple tears trail down her cheeks nonetheless. She doesn't bother to wipe them away.

She wants to believe him but she doesn't know how.

"You left me," she murmurs, "for so long."

She lifts her face and looks into his eyes. "What else was I supposed to think?"

vii.

He wanted to take them with him. Serena, Eric, Lily – the whole family.

"I don't blame your mother for wanting to move on, for wanting stability…"

She glances away, feels the familiar burn of neglect.

He could have fought harder.

viii.

"I didn't forget about you, Serena. You're my daughter."

She takes a deep breath.

"I kept track of you, from afar. Saw how beautiful you've become. Though some of the pictures I saw…weren't exactly pleasing."

Just barely, she manages to laugh. "That was kind of the point."

(She feels silly, now, for all the body shots and make-out sessions with royalty and topless dancing and stolen horses.

It was always silly. Carter must have known that.

He'd gone along with her anyway.)

ix.

After so long, she doesn't know exactly what she wants from him.

"We'll figure it out. I'm coming to New York," William says with a smile, gives her what she's always craved: "We'll have all the time in the world, you and me."

x.

Lily smile as she leads Carter back into the room. "Yes, we should all be heading back to New York. Especially those of us who weren't meant to leave in the first place," she adds, shooting her daughter an exasperated look.

William starts inquiring after Lily's current health, so Carter takes Serena's hand and tugs her off to the side.

"You've been crying," he notes gruffly, eyes skimming over her face. He lifts his eyebrows, silently requesting an explanation.

She can't do anything more than shrug. "He's coming home," she reveals shakily.

He smiles at her with something very close to adoration and brushes a knuckle under one of her eyes, sweeping away the remnants of her tears.

"Let's go home, then."

xi.

"We'll go somewhere and talk, when we get back," William offers. "I'll buy you ice cream at Serendipity; I remember how much you used to love it."

Serena swallows. She's touched that he remembers but it's nowhere near good enough.

"I was four," she says softly, a fresh batch of tears stinging at her eyes.

Tension engulfs the room and she lifts her chin defiantly. It's a fair point and she shouldn't have to feel otherwise. She won't take it back.

Carter nudges her shoulder with his own and offers the olive branch that Serena cannot extend herself: "But you still have a sweet tooth."

Serena watches her parents smile in unison and, unbidden, her lips curl upward as well.

"I do," she admits. "Serendipity sounds…good."

xii.

Her father thinks Carter is her boyfriend.

William shakes Carter's hand and Serena comes _thisclose_ to giggling.

"Thank you for bringing Serena here. It looks like…you've taken good care of her."

"He has," Serena pipes up softly.

Carter smirks. "It's been my pleasure."

William nods a little awkwardly. Lily narrows her eyes a bit but says nothing. Serena smiles.

(Her father thinks Carter is her boyfriend and she doesn't bother to correct him.)

xiii.

Serena realizes that, despite space and time, she still loves him.

_Which him?_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Thank you for your reviews! I apologize for the wait for this update. The show has been so awful that it sort of drained my muse for a few days.

_if i told you you were right, _

_would you take my hand tonight?_

Here are the things she knows:

i.

Airsickness is awful.

She's always been a traveler and has never had a problem with motion sickness, not once in her life. But ten minutes after takeoff, en route to JFK from Palm Beach, the colour drains from her face and she finds herself swallowing down nausea.

They're sitting in first class seats, all of them – last minute tickets, the kind that only a wealthy doctor who's spent years with MSF can afford and manage to procure. She's sitting next to Carter, in the window seat; the two of them are sitting behind her parents, who are talking so quietly that she can't hear what they're saying.

"Serena?" Carter touches her cheek, his hand drifting to cup the back of her neck. There is a note of alarm in his voice when he asks, "Are you alright?"

She opens her mouth say no, and to explain, but in the end she can only shake her head. She's not okay in a lot of ways.

He undoes his seatbelt and takes off his blazer, drapes it carefully around her shoulders as he presses a kiss to her temple and murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like, "I'm sorry, baby."

It's awful, airsickness, but it isn't nearly as bad when Carter lifts an arm and lets her curl into his chest.

She falls asleep against him and stays that way for the duration of their three-hour flight; doesn't wake again until they touch down in New York, and when she opens her eyes she feels perfectly fine.

ii.

Finding her father helps but it doesn't heal.

He comes home but it isn't the same as it would have been fourteen years ago – it isn't his home anymore. They've long since moved out of the penthouse they all lived in as a family, as a foursome, all those years ago. They have Chuck, adopted into their family in every way that counts. They have Rufus, husband number five, the one who truly means _til death do us part_. They have Dan, and they have Jenny. They have built another family.

They have more baggage than William will ever be able to carry.

They have a wealth of shared history, Serena knows, that will never include him.

iii.

Her father stands in the living room of the van der Woodsen – Bass – Humphrey abode looking like one of the statues her mother buys at charity auctions, the ones she donates or sends to storage or gives away as gifts, because they simply do not fit.

iv.

This has been what she's wanted most since she was four years old.

A secret whispered into her pillow, into the darkness like a prayer. The one thought on her mind when she blows out the candles on her birthday cake. Always the first words scrawled in messy cursive in her letters to Santa, and always the reason for teary eyes on her mother's wedding day(s). The fleeting desire if her eyes catch the clock at eleven-eleven, the root of her happiest dreams, and her wish for every shooting star.

She thinks by now, after fourteen years, she should be accustomed to disappointment.

But she feels it even as he stands in front of her, the ache in her eyes, the pull in her chest – _bring my daddy home_.

v.

Carter is the one who finds her hiding under the dining room table, concealed by the heavy tablecloth which is long enough to almost touch the floor.

There is an arch to his eyebrows that asks _seriously?_ but he joins her, sits crossed legged at her side without a word.

She leans her head against his shoulder and he laughs, presses his face into her hair.

"What are you _doing_?"

She giggles, too. It's inexplicable, really, but it's there and _he's_ there. "I don't know."

"You're ridiculous," he tells her, laughter still in his voice.

Serena lifts her head and meets his eyes, a clash of blues. "And you're still here."

(Later she will try to convince herself that he initiated the kiss, that he was the one to inch a hand underneath her shirt and to lay her down on the floor, but she knows that she was the one who leaned in first and started it all.)

vi.

"I know this isn't what you wanted."

Her parents and her step-father are arguing on the floor above, and she is half-naked under a table with Carter's breath on her neck and his hands on her skin.

She props herself up on one elbow, lets her eyes linger on his face, on all the places she memorized long ago. "It's what I should have expected, though," she sighs.

He trails a finger down the side of her cheek and she shivers a little. "Are you sorry that I found him?" he asks her in a low voice.

Her kiss serves as an acceptable answer: it is gentle and lingering and laced with _thank you_.

vii.

There's a scramble when they hear voices engaged in a heated argument and footsteps coming down the stairs. Carter hurries out from under the table and into the kitchen with his shirt half-buttoned, and Serena, smoothing out her hair and shifting her necklaces back into place, emerges from beneath the tablecloth just in time.

"Serena." Rufus is the one to see her first, and he looks a little clueless in that moment. She grew up long before he could ever really parent her, but past the confusion in his eyes she sees genuine concern, and she hears it when he asks her, "What are you doing?"

Over his shoulder she can see her parents (standing together just like she's always wanted them to). Her father is smiling a calm, cocktail party kind of smile, measured happiness. Her mother's lips are pursed in disapproval – Lily knows her, knows what she looks like with all her lip gloss kissed off.

Her father knows nothing about her, aside from hazy memories and pictures on Page Six.

It takes her breath away to wonder: what happens when he does?

viii.

Some things are better left as daydreams.

Closure, sometimes, is not quite worth the heartache.

ix.

"He's not going to stay, is he?"

She's not sure why, but she directs the question at her mother, ignores her father's presence altogether.

"Darling – "

Rufus interrupts, tells her gently, "He'll stay for a while."

_Not forever_ goes unsaid, but they are the only words ringing in Serena's ears.

x.

"He's an ass, Serena."

"He's my father," she replies faintly, watches as Carter paces in front of her. They are downstairs in the lobby because she needed an escape.

"He could at least spend as much time _being_ with you as you did _looking_ for his worthless – "

"You looked for him," she corrects, lifting her chin. "You were the one who looked for him."

Coming to a halt, he says, "Because you needed me to."

xi.

She perches on the arm of one of the sleek, modern couches and confesses: "I'm like him, you know."

Carter's eyes flash. Gruffly, he says, "Like hell you are, beautiful."

"I leave," she whispers. "That must be the van der Woodsen specialty."

"Serena – "

"Don't," she cuts him off, her voice breaking. "Don't you dare defend me to me. How many times have I walked away from you?"

"And how many times have a returned the damn favour?" he demands hotly. "Screw that, Serena. You are I are different. Who cares if you leave? If you love someone you find it in yourself to come back."

She looks at him. She doesn't breathe for a moment.

xii.

She sent her brother a text message from Palm Beach to let him know about their father, even though he was scheduled to be at Andover for a debating tournament until the next day.

And he sent a text to her boyfriend, who offers up this explanation as he walks into the building, worried eyes trained on her face: "Eric said you might need someone."

Carter takes a step away from her.

xiii.

Nate – her childhood crush, the person she's always considered a best friend second only to Blair, the boy she would have given almost anything (everything) up to have, the one she's _hoped_ for and _waited_ for _loved_ so hopelessly and so completely, even when she was sure they would never be anything but some sort of tragedy – stands in front of her and it's just like it's always been with the two of them: nothing needs to be said because it's all right there in his eyes.

He wants her. He loves her.

He cups her face with his hands, palms large and warm against her skin, and presses his mouth to hers in a kiss so gentle she thinks she might be imaging it.

Tucking a piece of hair out of her face, he says tenderly, "Let me in, S."

And she tries to pretend she can't feel the heat of Carter's gaze on her back.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Thank you for reading and leaving me such wonderful feedback! This is the final chapter and I hope you enjoy it.

_if i told you the reasons why _

_would you leave your life and right?_

_and ride…_

Here are the things she feels:

i.

Like she cheated on her boyfriend.

Nate touches her like he always had (like he loves her), but especially gently, as if she might break and it is his responsibility to keep her together. For a moment she closes her eyes and leans into his hug and lets herself believe that it really is that simple, that this is all she needs.

But then there's Carter. There's Carter, still standing there, still looking at her. He found her father, he went with her to Palm Beach, and only moments ago she kissed him under her dining room table.

She disentangles herself from Nate's warm, sturdy body and wonders if she has any morals at all.

ii.

She's scared of losing her mother.

Nate doesn't touch her again because it's clear she doesn't want him too, but he does ask, so softly and so sweetly, "What happened?"

"My mom's sick," she says tightly, still trying her hardest to ignore Carter's presence.

Blue eyes widening, Nate asks, "Sick like…"

Serena exhales and says the words in a rush, "Sick like cancer."

She can see it, in his expression, how devastated she probably looks at that moment. Her mother's never been very good at sticking around, but it would be another thing altogether to lose her permanently.

Nate reaches out to her, but he stops just in time, his hand lingering awkwardly in the air close to hers before he drops it, letting it fall back to his side.

iii.

Carter clears his throat and says in a totally neutral tone, "I'll give you two some privacy."

She spins around so quickly that her hair whips around her shoulders. "No!" she says quickly, loudly. More softly, she adds, "No, stay."

She feels dizzy and clingy and she just – doesn't want him to leave.

iv.

She just wants to go back.

Back upstairs, her mother smiles at Nate while he shakes Serena's father's hand and introduces himself. She stands back, watching them interact, and she thinks that she doesn't want any of the knowledge that she has now.

She doesn't want her father here, doesn't want the knowledge of her mother's potentially life-threatening illness, doesn't want the responsibility of explaining to Eric that she's been searching for William for years.

All she wants is to go back three days, or two weeks – back to giggling against Nate's shoulder as his hands crept up her shirt, all plans for morning coffee forgotten. She wants to go back to the easiness and the contentment of that moment.

Or it would be all she wanted, anyway, if it weren't for the fact that Carter is standing next to her now, staring at her unapologetically.

v.

"Archibald's smitten," Carter notes without a trace of emotion in his voice.

She ducks her head and breathes out fast. She knows it's true, but she didn't know that it was noticeable.

Lifting her chin, she whispers back, "You can tell?"

His eyes clash with hers and don't drift away. "I've been there, baby," he says.

vi.

Nate steals a private moment with her by the staircase, his hand settling comfortably at the small of her back.

"Okay?" he asks her, just a single word uttered with his eyes pinned on her face.

She shrugs but after spending a moment under his scrutiny, she nods.

Abruptly, he looks a little lost, and then he asks a question like he can't possibly hold it inside for another moment.

Quietly, he blurts, "Why _him_?"

vii.

Unbidden, Serena's eyes drift toward the doorway of the kitchen and fall onto Carter. She looks at the part of his hair near the back that's sticking up, and the line of his jaw (the very spot she's trailed kisses over more times than she can count), and the colour of his eyes and the rolled-up cuffs of his sleeves and the mouth that has been calling her _beautiful_ for years.

"I don't know," she tells Nate tiredly, hoping that he'll drop the subject.

She doesn't know, she really doesn't.

Or maybe it's just that she doesn't want to.

viii.

Carter announces that he's going to leave. He has "business to attend to" now that he's located William, apparently. Everyone should be fine now, there's no reason for him to stay.

(He looks right at her as he says it and she _knows_, right down to her heart, that what he's saying is that she doesn't need him anymore.)

She tries to bury the part of her that feels like it's breaking, the part of her that's still frayed and fragile since the night he walked out of a candlelit room and out of her life.

Maybe she needs him, still.

ix.

She wanted to save him. _God_, she'd wanted to save him the way he'd always been so good at saving her. She wanted to make up for all the times she'd left him behind.

She wanted to say, _I love you_.

x.

He is her guest, technically, so she walks him to the door, leaving Nate at the mercy of Rufus' awkward small-talk.

The elevator is big and they stand on separate sides of it; even then the space between them does not completely contain all of the things they've left unsaid.

When the doors open, neither of them move.

"Nate loves you."

She doesn't deny it.

"And you love him."

She doesn't confirm it.

xi.

Serena has been intermittently in love with Carter Baizen for approximately five years, since she lost her virginity to him one starry, humid night in the Hamptons the summer she turned fourteen.

By now, she knows him well enough to understand that he'd never want to be her second pick.

xii.

He hugs her goodbye and it's awful. It doesn't feel anything at all like an adequate farewell, not for them, not for all they've been through.

She holds onto him tight, her fingers clutching at the back of his blazer.

"Carter," she says softly, and she takes the kiss he presses to her cheek as a sign for her to continue.

She closes her eyes for a moment. She knows that if she breathed _let's run away_ against his shoulder right now, he wouldn't think twice about it.

Instead, she asks, "Why didn't you marry that Buckley girl?"

He pulls back to smirk at her. "Do you want me to tell you it was because of _you_?"

She rolls her eyes a little and bites back a small smile, but she doesn't answer.

And something changes in his eyes. His smirk fades a bit.

Very softly, very seriously, he tells her: "It was. A lot of it was because of you."

xiii.

She crushes her mouth against his recklessly, wraps her arms around his neck and presses her body as close to his as she possibly can.

For a moment he returns her kiss just as fiercely, but he lets go first, gently pulling her hands from where they're linked around his neck (_again_, and it hurts even more this time).

He kisses her palm and his lips curl into a mirthless smile. "Don't look at me like that, beautiful."

She doesn't know how she's looking at him, but however it is, she can't help it.

"We'll see each other again." There is a certainty in his words that she latches on to. "We always do."

In silence, she watches him go. She doesn't ask him to stop; that's never been how they've worked.

(But she wishes it was.)

**fin**


End file.
